


Indulgence

by versaphile



Category: Doctor Who (2005), Torchwood
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post Episode: s03e13 Last of the Time Lords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-05
Updated: 2007-09-05
Packaged: 2017-11-25 10:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/638161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/versaphile/pseuds/versaphile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>End of LOTTL. They all need something. They both want him</p>
            </blockquote>





	Indulgence

Martha was all softness and dark skin and dark eyes and his hearts were beating far too fast, their double-beat in triple-time. He wasn't entirely sure how this had happened, definitely wasn't sure what he was doing, but that didn't matter because her soft, soft thighs were pressed against his hips and that oldest of instincts was whispering insistently at him to _move_ , to sink into her slippery cunt. But as it had been at the start of all of this sweet, overwhelming madness, at every step of the way, he couldn't do it on his own.

Jack's hand wrapped around his cock, and he shuddered with pleasure and relief. Martha smiled, amused, then closed her eyes as he was guided into her. Her short, moist curls tickled his cock, and Jack's fingers slid back, making way as gravity and desire overcame his hesitance. 

He breathed in for the first time in minutes, oxygen flooding his system, mixing with the cocktail of chemicals already changing the world, his ship, this bed that was the limit of his senses. 

They'd both stripped him naked; first the coat, the obvious armour, but it wasn't until the jacket slid from his arms that he began to feel as naked as they had been. It wasn't until the knot of his tie had been tugged undone that he stilled and swallowed hard, wasn't until they'd undone all his buttons that his pulses had begun to thump in his ears. 

Doctor, they'd whispered, and it was need and love and he'd closed his eyes, terribly exposed and unbearably vulnerable.

He was all the way in, now, the sharp bones of his hips flush against her body, and Jack was touching him all over. His hands were large and strong and slightly calloused, touching places that no one had touched in years, not really, not like this. A kiss on his back, up his spine to his shoulder, and the heat and weight of Jack against him.

"Fuck her, Doctor," Jack ordered, a gentle whisper in his ear but oh, it made his hips jolt and Martha's gasp was something he suddenly absolutely had to hear again and again. He gasped with her as he rocked back and forth, and her eyes were locked on him. It was like looking into the sun, staring into a black hole, an inescapable gravity in them held him hostage. Her eyes were warm and safe and scared him to the bone.

He finally closed his own when Jack's fingers slid along his cock and joined it inside her, squeezing and pressing and entirely breaking his easy rhythm. His other hand moved between them, clever fingers making Martha squirm as they rubbed against her clit. Rich, thick scents surrounded him, human pheromones and skin and breath and fluids, not honey but salt and iron. The air was full of signals he didn't know how to read, but that was all right because they did, they understood for him.

Martha was touching him now, picking up where Jack had left off. Her hands cupped his face, held him until he opened his eyes again. Such a long pause, even as his hips continued to rock and Jack's hands moved busily, and then her fingers curled in his hair and she pulled him down, down, and she kissed him. Her lips moved urgently against his, her tongue slipping out to run against his teeth and then between them as his jaw relaxed, as he opened to her and accepted this and finally, finally kissed her back.

When he'd found them together, his first reaction had been to glare at Jack, to be angry with him for seducing Martha, for taking advantage of her. Jack was his responsibility, Jack was a charmer, Jack would sleep with anything with a postcode and most of all Jack was _his_. The strength of his jealousy had taken him by surprise: jealous of her, jealous of him, jealous of both of them for having each other. But while he'd been stammering and sputtering and trying not to look, they'd come to a decision.

The bed had still been warm when they'd pulled and pushed him down, the pillows pushed aside and sheets rumpled.

Now that he'd started, he couldn't stop kissing her. Something in him had snapped free, some strong binding had released him. He shifted his weight so he could reach down and touch one breast, found it soft and supple and perfect in his hand. He had just enough attention to spare to rub and flick the firm nipple with his thumb, then found he absolutely had to break away to wrap his lips around it, taste it. Her hands came to rest in his hair as his mouth and tongue moved on her body. So much life in her, so much beautiful human life. His back curved up and cock slipped free of her.

He moved to her other breast, and Jack slid down beside them. Jack and Martha exchanged meaningful looks he couldn't quite translate, and they smiled at each other as lovers smile. Jack's arms wrapped around her and she was turned onto her side and then, oh, oh. Jack was fucking her from behind, and the Doctor was watching and just barely remembering to breathe. He wanted to run and hide and stay and never leave this bed and beg them to keep him, and just for a moment it was all too much. But they both reached out to him, a hand each on his body, and his fear flowed out of him like electricity through a circuit. 

He looked down at her spread legs, where they were joined, and his fingers slipped into that dark thatch of hair of their own accord, finding slippery folds and taut skin where Jack's thick cock drove in and out. He mimicked Jack's trick and slid one narrow finger into her, and squeezed in another alongside. There was a curve inside her, and he pressed along it, curious.

"God," she breathed, open-mouthed. "Oh, God, Doctor."

"Good?" he asked, faintly. He pressed again, and she made the most wonderful keening sound.

Jack laughed, but when the Doctor looked up he saw smoulderingly intense eyes. "Rub her clit," he said, another order. The Doctor obeyed, and Jack's hips snapped, and there it was, oh yes, Martha crying out and shuddering all over and a fresh rush of that rich, dark scent.

"The two of you," she murmured, as she slowly recovered. 

They were still inside her, and the Doctor turned his hand, and just like that it was wrapped around Jack's cock. Martha's aftershocks fluttered around them, squeezing his fingers into the hard flesh. She squeezed again and again, and then he did too, until Jack whimpered.

Keeping his hand there, holding Jack, he kissed his way down Martha's body. Her belly jumped as she laughed and breathed, and she was so hot there, at the core of her. They were both that way, human furnaces on his cool skin, but it was the best kind of burn. He pressed his tongue between her legs and licked between his fingers, tasting both of them. Jack's cock throbbed in his hand, and he carefully pulled it from Martha's cunt and guided it forward and put his mouth on it.

It was Martha's hands in his hair, Martha's body pressing against his face, and the head of Jack's cock against his tongue. His slick fingers moved deeper between her legs and gripped the base of his cock. Jack groaned and thrust forward, pulled Martha's leg back, and it was a good thing she was flexible because it meant another inch between the Doctor's lips. He pleasured them both at once, and it felt a little bit like an apology.

"Doctor," Jack moaned, and there was something broken in it, something that yearned. The Doctor pressed on, giving a hard suck, but Jack slid back, turned out of reach.

Martha's leg fell forward onto his shoulder, and the Doctor pushed his tongue into her cunt, lapping her up. He knew he ought to stop this, to talk to Jack, but he was a coward at all times, and couldn't resist this temptation. Martha fell onto her back and wrapped her legs over his shoulders and there was nothing but this, her under him, moaning and pressing and grabbing at his hair and the sheets.

Jack's fingers were wet as pressed against his arse. Bold Jack, not even asking, not even needing to. The Doctor doubted he could stop him even if he wanted to, even if his senses weren't fizzing with arousal and desire and shocked relief, because this wasn't his decision and he was glad of that. One finger pushed in, rocked in and out and rubbed pleasurably against the rim, and that was all right. He pressed back, just a bit, and after that Jack's fingers moved more confidently.

The third time Martha came, she made him stop, coaxing him to crawl over her, on hands and knees. She rubbed his lips with her thumb, and he caught it in his mouth and sucked it clean. They smiled at each other, and then everything went a bit wobbly as Jack's cock pushed firmly into his arse. Jack's hands were firm on his hips and Martha's hands gripped his arms, and it was good because he needed them to hold him down, keep him still. It hurt a little, but no more than he deserved.

He wondered if he was doing this because he wanted them or because he wanted it to hurt that much more when he was alone again. A noise escaped his throat, sounding something like a sob, but then Jack was all the way in, filling him and holding him and inescapable. Martha touched him soothingly, stroking his cheek and his neck, fingers catching on a spot that wouldn't have made a human blink twice but made him shiver and his stomach twist.

He whimpered as Jack began to fuck him; at first the thrusts were soft, almost gentle. And then something changed, and they were hard and angry, their bodies slapping together noisily. He didn't flinch from them, didn't pull away, just took it all. And it did feel good, it wasn't a punishment even if he thought it should be one, because Jack loved him more than he hated him, even if he thought it should be the other way around. 

Eventually, Jack slowed to an easier pace, and he bent over the Doctor's back, wrapping around him. Held between them he felt protected, safe; if only this moment could never end, nothing bad could ever happen to them again. He could never let them down, never abandon or betray them. Martha gripped his cock and his dark thoughts skittered away again, to wait in the back of his mind. 

"Always thinking," she said, languidly stroking him. "Even in the middle of all this."

"Not thinking now," the Doctor managed, dazed with sensation.

"Fuck me," she ordered sweetly, and before he could process it Jack was pushing him down and she was guiding him back inside her, and oh oh _ohh_. Oh, _this_. He might never think again. She groaned beneath him and hitched her thighs up.

"I've wanted this for so long," she said, and he knew, he'd seen, but there'd been so much in the way, and he couldn't. Not on his own. "Since the moon. And now..." She began to pant as he thrust harder, as Jack thrust harder. It was all blurring together, and he stopped trying to do anything but be carried along. 

Martha came first, clenching exquisitely around him, and he fucked her as she keened and writhed. The sight of it was too much, and at last he was pushed over the edge himself. He pulsed inside her, still as a statue, body arched with aching pleasure as the world faded out and back again. 

When he came back to himself, he was lying on his back next to her. Jack was kneeling over them, breathing hard and cock hard and looking at the Doctor with such _pain_. 

"Oh, Jack," the Doctor said, sadly. "Jack," he repeated, and pushed himself up on wobbly arms. 

Jack flinched and turned his head as the Doctor reached out to him. Pulled him into his arms, held him. "I'm sorry," he said, wishing he'd said it sooner. "Oh, Jack."

Jack met his eyes, finally, and it was just a look, one look between them, but there was more in it than they could ever express with mere words. The Doctor did the only thing he could do, reached down and stroked Jack's cock but didn't look away. Even as his hand moved faster, as Jack's eyes darkened with arousal again, they held their gaze, and it was the most honest thing the Doctor had ever done. He watched as Jack came, as the pleasure washed over him, and then when it was over he pulled Jack back into a hug and simply held him.


End file.
